Broken Mirror
by Bakura13
Summary: Now whenever I look back at my reflection, I see more than it shows…I am neither alive nor dead…I have family but I don’t…I am not human…I am a replacement…A broken machine…


Broken Mirror  
  
[I had just seen the final episode of V-Force yet again to get the Zeo angst stuff back on a roll and thought this up while I was washing dishes...  
Strange, no? Anyway, yeah... Unlike my other Zeo-focused story, I am not  
continuing from a one-shot! ... Tis too troublesome and I'm lazy.  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Beyblade.]  
  
It's ironic... How a mirror shows the exact reflection of one's self... What they don't know is that it is a lie...  
  
What do I see when I look in the mirror? Of course I see myself... Zeo. The same child with unusual and long turquoise hair, aquamarine eyes... Never changing, all the same. It was like that until everything came crashing down on me. Crashing down to make me feel angry, sad, broken, torn up; there are not enough words to explain it. People seemed to have understood... but they kept staring... and watching me like I was some freak... Yeah, a freak. Need more of a description? Not of human fabrication, not of skin and bones, no blood relation, only something that cannot be explained and can only be talked about behind its back. Yes, it.  
  
My father understands but then I start to wonder... Would she ever understand? My mother, I never knew her...  
  
I had asked my father about her whilst he was repairing my damaged arm from after the World Championships... Of course I was, and I despise the word, operational at the time... The whole time while he explained to me, told me about the mother I never knew... Not the circuitry... Real, human being...  
  
"She was a beautiful woman." He told me as he delicately started to repair the damage that had been done. "She had hair just like yours... A vibrant colour that reflected her very personality."  
  
What had he meant by that? I was not born... I was created as a replacement for their real son.  
  
"She was very gentle and kind to others, especially-" He had paused, going silent. "...You would have liked her a lot, my son..."  
  
I knew what he was trying to say... He was trying to say that my mother was nice to me... but I'm not the real son. I'm not the real human boy that had died in a tragic accident... Just a copy... A reflection...  
  
"She would have just loved you." He was going to say loved me to pieces... I just knew it. "It was painful for all of us when the tragedy occurred..."  
  
He had stopped talking for a while, reaching for fragile tools as I flinched from a small spark. It had hurt. It might have not been human pain... like when someone cuts his leg on a loose nail... It's more of a burning shock feeling... A horrible reminder of what I was. A reminder just like the mirror...  
  
"Would you like to see a picture of her?" My father had asked me after a time of silence.  
  
Silence was my response to him as he stopped tending to my damaged arm for a moment to walk over to one of the computer desks. He picked up a framed picture and had brought it over to me, holding it out for me to take with my good arm. He was right. Her hair was the same colour as mine... The same colour as her son... I guess she was a some sort of scientist as well, judging of the white lab coat that she wore alongside of my father. Oops, my mistake... My creator...  
  
"Unfortunately, she had passed away as I was trying my best to take care of you, Zeo... Before you were able to function properly..."  
  
Would she had treated me differently if she was here? Or would she act misleadingly around me and talk behind my back to my father... I held the picture with my still functioning arm, looking at her face... Soon after...  
  
Tears started pouring from my eyes, traveling steadily down my face...  
  
My father had looked up from his work, most likely with concern etched across his face... My shoulders were shaking; my grip on the picture frame was slack as I continued to look at it, nearly letting go. She was supposedly my mother... and I had never seen her ever in my life... How did she die? Was the loss too much for her to take? Why wasn't I told anything about her...  
  
"Zeo..."  
  
I heard him call for me... I used all my strength to very shakily move my right arm to the picture. It took so much effort, it made me want to cry even more. It hurt. A lot. My right arm was barely functional... but I could still try to move it... My hand eventually touched the glass of the picture, my fingers slowly dragged down the pane as I studied as much detail of her as possible. I wanted to see her more than ever... Would have I been any different if I had a mother to comfort me in my time of need? Would she had made the blow less harsh when I was told I was not a human?  
  
The glass reflected my image slightly as small splashes of water fell onto it...  
  
My father pulled my arm away from my tears as some started shorting out my open circuits slightly... It wasn't my fault... He had built me with feelings and I couldn't help it. Another thing I couldn't have...  
  
I couldn't be human...  
  
I couldn't meet my creator's wife... My mother...  
  
I couldn't do anything...  
  
The repairs on my circuits continued as I silently cried at the picture. It was so unfair. Everything was unfair. I can't help but think back at the World Championships... It brings back such horrible memories... I'm not even able to forget them, as mocking as it was. At last, I put the picture down beside me with a shaky hand.  
  
The one thing that will stick in my mind forever...  
  
Machines can't have family... They're only comforting replacements for something that has been lost...  
  
Now whenever I look back at my reflection, I see more than it shows... I am neither alive nor dead... I have family but I don't... I am not human... I am a replacement... A broken machine...  
  
[Whoo... Fairly short but I'm going to try to write yet another Zeo focused fan fiction! ... Anyway, that's the end of this one. Angst is the specialty ... Or something like that.] 


End file.
